The Sinner
by bxnes
Summary: The grievous choices of Draco Malfoy haunt him every moment thereafter. However, through the redemption of Malfoy, Hermione finds a salvation that grounds her back into life. An unlikely collaboration is formed when two former rivals must work together as Head Boy and Girl. [trigger warning/viewer discretion] [discontinued]
1. A Beginning

**A/N: For a while I've really wanted to write a Draco/Hermione fanfiction in the sense of my own personal struggles I've finally come to the idea of what I'd like to write about and how I'm going to write it.**

 **I express all seriousness of this story between Hermione and Draco because what may have been dubbed a "children's story", the aftermath of such horror within the Harry Potter war caused so much unmentioned pain and consequences that young people will seriously have trouble grasping the concept of.**

 **The following is rated M [intense violence, graphic sex scenes and self harm]**

 **Viewer discretion is advised**

 **Thank you for reading and taking this into account. I do hope you enjoy my story and please favourite and review, constructive feedback is greatly appreciated.**

* * *

 _Dear Viktor,_

 _I'm so glad to hear you are going okay and couldn't be more ecstatic that you've signed a new contract - just like my mother says 'as long as it makes you happy!' Do you check in with Durmstrang often? I saw you in a newspaper not long ago that you attended one of the memorial services for the Second Wizarding War, you looked extremely handsome. It's just such a shame there need be a memorial in the first place..._

 _Sometimes I wonder about why wars even happen. Why we endorse all this chaos when, all in all, between the lines, it's so much simpler. Although, some people have no motives whatsoever, some just want to see the world burn, but I question why these people are on the streets at all and why we can't stand up to them and annihilate the problem at its source._

 _I apologise if I'm rambling to you and I'm making you wonder why I'm talking about this at all. It's just that I return to Hogwarts shortly for my final year. Kingsley Shacklebolt offered me a spot among Aurors but I can't stand physical confrontation and I know that I'm of much better use logically, so I'm returning to Hogwarts to complete my last year. I am excited, but I don't deny any discomfort. This will be one entire year without Harry and Ron, it's going to be so different. And I don't know why, but every time I think about Hogwarts, I get this horrible pain in my chest. Like some bad memory. I suppose the war inflicted all sorts of mental scars on me but I'm frustrated because I can't figure out the pain and don't know why. I don't want this to be stuck with me forever. I want to move on as quickly as possible. It's already been two years... how long can it take?_

 _But anyway, I received my Hogwarts letter not long ago and it came with a surprise._

 _The Head Girl badge! I'm unsure whether you had Prefects and Heads at Durmstrang (?) but it's just authoritative positions given to Fifth years and above, I was a Prefect in Fifth and Sixth year but I am utterly shocked that Headmistress McGonagall has given the position to me. It's going to be a lot of work but I'm up for a challenge._

 _I'm sorry it has taken me so long to respond since your last letter (two months). Finding the time to write all my feelings has absolutely exhausted me._

 _I hope to hear from you soon and hope you are going well with your Quidditch._

 _Hermione x_

* * *

She sent the letter by her new owl (Sybil) who was a brown tawny, though extremely quiet but very enthusiastic when it came to delivering post for Hermione. She watched the bird soar out of her open window just above her bed and rested her head on her elbows on the sill. It had taken Hermione almost two hours to write that letter. She couldn't explain why she couldn't get all her feelings and thoughts on to a piece of paper, after all, she'd been writing arguments and her opinions in essays for years at Hogwarts so this made absolute no sense.

Hermione found that a lot of her thoughts were jumbled. Sometimes she had trouble remembering certain things, like moments of her day would just be blacked out. Not two weeks ago her mother had asked Hermione to do a certain task involving house work, usually taking up the challenge within seconds of her mother setting it this time Hermione just nodded vaguely and retreated to her bedroom, totally forgetting the event. Admittedly, these "episodes" scared Hermione, but she spent most her time denying them when she even had the slightest thought. Not because she was afraid she was going "crazy" but because they frightened her. She felt tarnished by all of this, like someone had come along, invaded her mind and plucked her own memories. The entire concept was too alarming.

She didn't want to think about it anymore.

The _blub_ of her fishtank caught her attention. Hermione trudged over to look at the little gold fish. After the war Hermione decided she needed another little responsibility in her life to fill the hole which the war had left. A year of being on the run and hunting Horcruxes left Hermione abandoned and stripped of meaning. For so long it had been darkness and constant fear of death and removing the loved ones from her life to protect them. Coming back to reality, coming back to a Muggle world, to where it had all stopped, not entirely suddenly but quick enough, left her depersonalised. The first six months were the toughest. Waking up screaming from the things she'd seen, begging for it to stop, scaring the shit out of her parents. The sleepless nights left her too tired to function the next day. So she would sit. Watch Muggle television, read a book, entertain her mother's visitors - which she was sure she invited for Hermione's sake. Leaving the house was almost impossible. Not that she was scared to do it but because it was too hard. Because leaving her bed to take a shower used up all her energy for the day. This went on for what felt like an eternity. Hermione couldn't escape it despite how hard she wanted. Even if she had her memory modified and got shipped off toe Madagascar there would be an abiding reminder of all that she suffered.

 _Mudblood_

Hermione usually wore long sleeves to cover the scar which was etched into her forearm, placed there by the deranged, Bellatrix Lestrange. When it was still fresh Hermione would scratch it, scratch the scab until it bled, causing the wound unable to heal for some time. It was a painful memory.

The screaming...

The feeling of the knife digging into her skin... blood dripping down her arm... shaking, screaming; calling for Ron; for Harry; for it to stop; for home; her parents; for it to just _end already._

"Hermione!"

Hermione blinked.

She turned from the fishtank and yanked her cardigan off her desk chair, slipping it on, covering the scar.

"Coming, Mum!" She called back, trying to sound as normal possible.

Hermione took the steps two at a time. Downstairs, her father was seated at the breakfast bar, eyes pouring over a Muggle newspaper. She spotted her mother stirring something in a pot on the stove. The smell of butter chicken then hit her and Hermione forced herself not to drool. She simply adored Indian food. Spice was one of her weaknesses. She hopped up on the counter and swung her legs back and forth. _Everything is okay, everything is fine._

"Could you possibly run down to the store and get me some rice? I thought we had some left in the cupboard but I must have used up the last of it." Her mother asked distractedly.

Hermione nodded. "I can do that. Is there anything else you need?"

As Mrs Granger shook her head no, Hermione hopped off the counter and popped a grape in her mouth. "Dad is there anything you need while I'm out?"

"No thanks sweetie." He replied and sent Hermione a smile.

Hermione quickly ducked up to her bedroom to grab her wallet and shoes when she saw a different owl perched on Sybil's stand. "Hello there." she muttered and stroked the bird. She quickly untied the letter and recognised Ginny's slanted writing. Eager to see what her friend had to say, she opened the letter then. The rice could wait another two minutes.

* * *

 _Dear Hermione,_

 _We're all so happy to hear that you got Head Girl! I wonder who Head Boy is? Mum was going on about you to Bill and Fleur when they came over for a visit two days ago. It may come as a shock but Fleur is pregnant! Apparently they've only known for a month, so the baby will be due some time April next year. I don't envy Bill, that lustrous Veela is a pain in the ass in the best of times. But her 'Eeen-glish' has got so much better, apparently._

 _Anyway, I've got to make it short but I'll see at Platform Nine and Three Quarters. It's a real shame you couldn't come over a few nights before the 1st, it would have been nice to catch up before school officially started._

 _See you soon!_

 _Ginny_

* * *

Guilt arose in her stomach like frozen ice. Hermione would have liked to have gone to the Burrow for a few days but didn't want to risk seeing Ron, she couldn't handle seeing him just yet. During the longest and hardest patch of her life after the war Hermione hadn't seen Ron at all. In fact, it was months after the war had finished before she saw him again, and that was only because she had to for celebratory services and the like. For years they hopped around each other, avoiding their true feelings and creating a large, forever bubbling sexual tension that took years to resolve. When they kissed in the war it was all Hermione could ever hope for, they were going to die and they might as well have been together when it happened.

But then they didn't.

And Hermione couldn't speak after it all calmed down but Ron didn't persist either. She expected he was dealing with his own emotions, dealing with his grief, the absence of his brother. When Hermione came out of her shell she went to the Burrow. She saw him. And then they were together. Bundled up in each other's arms, the rest of the world utterly oblivious to them. Just them on the faded couch in the Sitting Room and nothing else.

For a while it was okay. Waking up from nightmares to have some hold her, to stroke her hair and whisper to go back to sleep.

And eventually she made a routine again. Getting up, eating, doing things, meeting people, attending help fundraisers and all the stuff she should have done instead of sit in her bedroom for months on end. Her life became somewhat normal again but her relationship with Ron was... muddled.

They fought, like they would normally do in Hogwarts, but it wasn't about trivial nonsense anymore. It was about real things. About careers, money, their future together, lack of interest, fixed mindsets... problems, problems, problems. Soon enough it became nothing. They were still together but moving nowhere, not backwards or forwards, just stuck. This lasted longer than Hermione should have let it, she only broke it off with Ron a month ago. The pain was horrible, losing one of her best friends and unsure whether they could build it up again or lose it forever. But now she was insistent on going forward.

"Hermione! Rice!" Her mother yelled from downstairs, firmer this time.

"Oh yeah, sorry!" Hermione called back.

She disapparated from her room, knowing her parents would have heard the crack.

* * *

On the morning of September 1 Hermione woke up at the crack of dawn. She had already packed everything days ago but did a double check and sweep of her room. No new letters had arrived from the other day when she last sent them. Sybil would know where Hermione was anyway so she didn't worry about the owl's absence.

Hermione fried up an amazing breakfast for herself and her parents. Kylie and Henry Granger would not being seeing off their daughter at the platform because of their work but Hermione wanted to see her parents all the same. When they trudged out of their bedroom, showered and ready for the day, they grinned, surprised at Hermione's effort in breakfast.

"Thought we'd have breakfast together before I head off." Hermione smiled broadly to her parents, quite obviously proud of her work. She sat down in between her Mum and Dad at the breakfast bar, digging in. She was going to miss her parents. They helped her and believed in her the most when she was down. They were her personal cheerleading team.

* * *

The familiar rattle of the Hogwarts Express chugged beneath Hermione. She was following Crookshanks into what was, hopefully, an empty compartment. The door was wide open and loud laughs and chatter rang from inside. She braced herself for a bunch of-

Ginny, Luna and Neville, Dean and Seamus all sat in the compartment. Neville and Ginny turned their heads to see Hermione enter, showing their bright smiles.

"Hermione!" Ginny jumped up immediately and enveloped Hermione into a tight hug. Hermione returned it happily. Once they broke apart she wedged herself next to Seamus.

"How is everyone?" She asked, seriously wanting to know about everyone else's 'holidays'. Hermione knew that everyone had their share in the spotlight as heroes from the war but was holding out for some interesting stories in hoping that the train ride would go quickly.

* * *

After so many stories Hermione had, guiltily, zoned out once Seamus started talking about his own adventure. She stared out of the window, longing to see Hogwarts castle but alas she guessed they wouldn't be arriving in Hogsmeade for another hour. It was at this point which she looked at her watch and almost swore aloud.

"I've got to go guys - I'll be back soon - Prefect meeting!" Hermione darted out of the compartment and went on a hunt for the Prefects. She was running five minutes late, Hermione was just begging that the Head Boy had the meeting under control.

Hermione had a quick one second look through every compartment to see if she recognised any Prefects- ah! Hannah Abbott! She slid open the door and squeezed herself in. Nobody paid her any attention as they were all too busy listening to the Head Boy. Hermione craned her neck, trying to get a better look at who was speaking because she definitely recognised that voice. She certainly was not small enough to squeeze through any more people so Hermione was stuck at the door, listening to him speak.

Ten minutes later the meeting adjourned and Hermione stepped out of the way, allowing the Prefects an exit. She waited until nearly everyone had cleared out, staring at everyone's robes, trying to spot the Head Boy badge. After some time they were all gone and the only person left was Draco Malfoy. She wondered why he hadn't left yet, normally he'd be the one to sprint out of the room and begin bullying other grades, totally abusing his privilege as Prefect. However, he stayed behind. Then suddenly, it dawned on her.

She spied the Head Boy badge pinned to his black robe and immediately narrowed her eyebrows.

"Thanks for showing up, Granger." He muttered and then left, leaving her dumbfounded.


	2. The Arrival

**A/N: Thank you all for such lovely reviews, I'm growing ever concerned about the first chapter because I just feel that my writing is really patchy and just doesn't flow well. I don't really know how to fix it... If anyone has any suggestions on what I can do to improve the quality of my writing please message me. Anyway, please R & R and enjoy!**

In total honesty, Hermione shouldn't have been surprised that the Head Boy would be Slytherin.

Okay, maybe she was _a little_ surprised, she was hoping for someone much more academic and studious, a Ravenclaw perhaps, but there was no denying Slytherin's could be equally, if not more, ambitious than others. Then again maybe she was sticking to the categorised bullshit the Sorting Hat told them when they were sorted. Either way, she suspected McGonagall had a different motive for saddling Hermione with Malfoy.

It was no lie that Slytherins and Gryffindors had a long standing rivalry, dating back to god knows what time. If the war proved anything it definitely was the fact people weren't what their House pegged them to be.

Still. The thought of having to work with Malfoy for her last year at Hogwarts threw her off a little. She couldn't seem to find the compartment her friends were in, therefore resorting to roaming the corridors of the train. Hermione was thankful she was already dressed in her school robes.

* * *

Draco stalked back to the compartment which he was sharing with Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott. The meeting had gone swiftly until Granger rocked up, five minutes late. He'd managed to keep the attention of the Prefects, from either fear or interest he did not really care but when Granger squeezed in she caused unrest amongst the Prefects. When he called the meeting to the end he hung back just to see the look on her face.

He knew she would be shocked. Draco was equally as shocked when he got the letter. Narcissa was obviously ecstatic that her baby boy was given a role of leadership, especially after such hard times. Draco pondered whether it was a joke or not. Because honestly, who in their right mind would give an ex-Death Eater the role of Head Boy?

Everyone knew Draco was a Death Eater, same as his father and his mother had her count of affiliations with Darkness. But nobody knew the full story. And nobody ever would.

A loud ruckus erupted from the compartment which Draco just entered. Apparently Blaise and Theo were having a competition on who could keep their chocolate frog on their tongue the longest. Idiots.

Theo, who had turned his head when Draco stepped in, groaned as his frog jumped onto the window.

"Ha!" Blaise exclaimed. "I win."

Draco lazed down on a seat beside Theo. "How was the meeting? Or more specifically, how was Granger?" Blaise asked, ignoring Theo's disastrous attempts at catching the chocolate frog.

Draco gave Blaise an amused look. "Late. Can you pass the _Prophet_ please?"

Blaise arched his eyebrow in question. "Just late? Not annoying? Insufferable? Uptight?" He asked and handed over the newspaper.

Draco snatched it from his friend. "Well, she had a right look on her face when she saw the Head Boy badge." Draco quickly skimmed over the front page of the paper. "Didn't say anything though. Just gave a bit of a _humph_ and I left her with her knickers in a twist."

Blaise chortled and muttered something about Granger's knickers that Draco pretended not to hear.

* * *

It was too strange to be back at Hogwarts without Harry or Ron. Normally at this point she'd be watching Ron scoff down all sorts of delicious food for the Feast or be greeted with a strange new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor then chat amongst her friends on what they might encounter in that subject for the year.

Instead, Hermione was seated beside Ginny at Gryffindor table, her mind already occupied with various things she needed to do before the official start of term. Just before she entered the Great Hall McGonagall had intercepted her, informing her that she would require hers and the Head Boy's presence in the Headmistress's office at nine o'clock, sharp. She also had a patrol beginning at nine thirty, she hoped that McGonagall didn't need them for that long. And _then_ once Hermione turned in to the Heads dorm she'd have to "collaborate" - eurgh - with Malfoy on a Prefect roster. What a great start to the term.

Hermione finished dinner quickly with a small assortment of vegetables, finding she didn't really have an appetite. The minutes ticked away while she listened to more stories of people while they were away. Her mind wandered off again.

Now 'officially' an adult, Hermione was rather shocked she was completing her seventh year at (going on) twenty one years old. It made her feel a little old. Back in her first year of Hogwarts she would never have even _comprehended_ that, in ten years time, she'd be in the same place. Admittedly, there had been a slight intermission, regardless, Hermione was back in the place she so dearly missed and hated at the same time.

Snapping out of her thoughts, McGonagall rose to the podium and the Hall was met with silence.

"I would like to thank you all for joining us so politely tonight," she began. McGonagall cleared her throat. It echoed through the Hall. "This is a special and grievous time for us all," she continued, putting on what Hermione recognised as her grave face. "I understand that many of you are young and quite new to Hogwarts, but that does not mean ignorance has been thrust upon you... or that you have not suffered any loss due to the war. It was a hardship that all faced. Which brings me to the returning students of Hogwarts School. I'm aware that, in this Hall, this very minute, are people sitting who fought bravely against Voldemort's army, against people who they may have known, for the better good. And, in knowing that sacrifice was the ultimate price for peace, they stood by as they watched their friends and foes fall down all around them, and not only that, but also putting their own lives on the line.

"I am aware that, also sitting in this Hall, are people who were escorted out of the castle that night, for their safety. They were the people who sat by and waited anxiously then to find out next morning their own friend... brother, sister or cousin was killed.

"But this loss will not go unremembered. We _will_ commemorate our fallen soldiers and forever respect their ability to do what was right. For two years volunteers, students, witches and wizards of all ages came to rebuild our school. For you. Teachers, new and old, offered their services for you. Our friends and family gave their lives for _you._ So you could live without fear and injustice leading your life. I urge you to remember the night of May Second 1998, no matter what you were doing on that night, you know what happened. _Voldemort_ was destroyed. The Dark had been vanquished. We may be wounded, battle scars may forever be etched into our lives but remember that we are _here and alive_.

"A monument has been built in the Entrance Hall for all of those who died in service. Do not be ashamed to cry when you stare at that monument. Do not be ashamed to ask help. Hogwarts is now a place for unity. Though you wear different coloured ties you are _all_ Hogwarts students and you all deserve the amount of help you need. A chaplaincy program has been erected for any student wishing to speak to someone other than their Head of House or trusting professor."

Hermione wiped a tear from her eye. The face of Fred Weasley flashed in her mind... then Lupin and Tonks and Mad-Eye... Sirius and Colin Creevey... Lavender, Snape. Even Arianna and Dumbledore somehow managed to flit into her thoughts. She couldn't think about the war at the best of times, now McGonagall was _talking_ about it. Her heart pounded quicker with every second.

"Despite such a horrid period, we are here to welcome you with warm arms and guide you into your future. Remember the fallen but do not stay in the past... it does not do well to dwell on dreams and forget to live."

McGonagall went on to skim over some old and new rules then promptly dismissed the school.

* * *

Hermione wasn't up to facing Malfoy before she had to so she enchanted a paper plane with a note scribbled on it containing the time and place. At ten to nine Hermione left the Gryffindor Common Room, having spent a couple of hours with her old friends, and went in the direction of the Head Mistress's office. Once at the Gargoyle Hermione bit her lip. She'd neglected to ask McGonagall the password. How was she going to get in now?!

She tried a few passwords, thinking up of every one of McGonagall's morales. Five minutes later she still hadn't figured it out and kicked the gargoyle in frustration, emitting a swear word from her own mouth. _Stupid._

Right on time, Malfoy appeared with an intrigued expression. "You know, Granger, kicking statues won't exactly help the predicament you're in."

Hermione spun on her heel and blushed deeply. She folded her arms. "Ha, ha. Well how do you propose we get in then? I _obviously_ don't know the password. I'm not a very strong flyer either..."

Malfoy then looked at her confusedly. "What's flying got to do with anything?"

"To fly up in through the window?"

Draco fought the urge to burst out laughing. God, Granger was a sod. "Or I could just use the password?" He suggested with his shit-stirring smirk.

She gaped at him. "You could have said you'd known it!"

He snorted. "What, and miss out on hearing your less than adequate, morbidly dumb, problem-solving? No thanks." Draco stepped forward to the gargoyle, ignoring Hermione's glare, and spoke again. "Solidarity."

The statue sprung to life and the steps appeared.

* * *

"Come in." The Headmistress's voice carried out into the hall.

Draco pressed the door open and strode forward until he stood in front of McGonagall, seated at her desk. Draco had a brief look around the room when he entered. Most of the magical artefacts that he once remembered as Dumbledore's were no longer in sight. The books on the shelves seemed to be moving on their own accord but other than that, it was a much more boring room.

"Ah, Miss Granger, Mr Malfoy. Please take a seat." McGonagall gestured to the seats in front of the desk.

Both took their seats and looked at their Headmistress expectantly. Hermione's head was whirring with ideas on what McGonagall might possibly have sent them for.

"I've summoned you both to talk to you about a new... _event_... occurring at Hogwarts this year." Hermione couldn't help but notice it looked like McGonagall was swallowing a lemon as she said that. "It was something, at first, I did not quite agree on with the School Board, but they have swayed me into thinking that this will be a good opportunity for students at school."

Hermione could tell she McGongall did not agree one bit. She was a bit better at reading people's emotions nowadays (even more so with hiding her own) and also found that reading the thoughts and motives of a Gryffindor was most easy. Slytherins... not so much. Anyway, it was plain as the glasses perched on McGonagall's nose that she was, most likely, outvoted in what had to be a diplomatic vote/opinion.

"The Tetrad Championship." McGonagall said with a quiet sigh. "A challenge for four students of Hogwarts, one selected from each house, to compete against and _with_ one another."

Hermione narrowed her eyebrows. "I'm sorry, professor, but I'm not sure I'm following... is this a refurbished version of the Triwizard Tournament?"

"I'm afraid some may see it that way, but when it comes down to the facts, it is not like the Triwizard Tournament. I can assure you that none of my students shall ever be put in harms way again. Not on purpose."

Was she thinking about Harry and his own experience in the Tournament? Hermione always sensed a deeper obligation of McGonagall toward her students...

"I did not announce it at the Opening Feast as there a few loose ends that need to be tied together. I do, however, need to fill you both in on it as I will require yours and a small selection of Prefects help, come closer to the time."

"When should we be expecting to know more?" Draco asked curiously.

"The Championship will be officially announced on the evening of Halloween. Some judges will arrive the day before the announcement as well." McGonagall informed them. "Do you have any questions?"

Hermione had a thousand questions. _Is it dangerous? Will there be dragons? Why did they decide to do this? Wouldn't it be an interruption of student's studies? How much will it cost the school?_

She shook her head no, same as Draco.

"Very well." McGonagall pursed her lips. "Off you go then, I trust you have some duties to be performing. Thank you for coming."

They took their dismissal and exited her office, silence between them the entire way to the Head Dorms.

 **A/N: additionally, I wrote the majority of this chapter to Dumbledore's Farewell so I felt very emotional. Anyway xD Hope you enjoyed! Please review!**


	3. First Day Back

It was twenty past time when Hermione and Draco entered the Head Dormitory. Hermione had yet to see their own quarters as she went straight to the Gryffindor Common Room (out of habit?) after the Feast. She was now standing in the doorway, admiring the area. It was a little small but definitely enough room for two people to share. It was very 1910 style, something you'd find in a miniature version of Downton Abbey. Floor to ceiling bookshelves against the walls, elegant but large windows, a dark blue chaise lounge and a few other single seetees. A desk was also available set right in front of the largest window. She couldn't wait to see her own personal room.

Draco had zoomed past her the second they were in the door, leaving her to her momentary astonishment. Despite his eye for architecture and design Draco was not in the mood for admiring an adequately designed room, especially not with Granger.

Hermione pursed her lips when she heard his bedroom door shut rather loudly. She did not understand how McGonagall expected them to co-operate with one another. They were both too stubborn and their relationship was more than likely irreparable. Not that Hermione _wanted_ anything to do with Malfoy in a friendly sort of way. Sure, she pitied him but honestly, his arrogance and prejudiced behaviour had left a stain on her perception of him.

She sighed and shook her head. Her patrol began in ten minutes, she had to get ready for what was likely going to be a long night. Also, getting into the swing of school again was beginning to take a toll on her already. She found herself quite tired and all she'd done was talk to the Headmistress and eat at the Feast.

* * *

Draco stayed buried up in his dorm, deciding to do the Prefect schedule that Granger would, most likely, be up until the early hours of the morning if she did it when she got back. Even if he was an arrogant asshole, he was given the role as Head Boy and had to complete at least _some_ of his duties without being asked. He didn't know why... but for some reason he was craving forgiveness from Hermione. After all he did to her...

He grabbed some parchment and a quill and head back into the Common Area. Draco seated himself on the lounge and set to work.

* * *

The portrait door swung open again at eleven thirty, revealing a tired looking Hermione. All she wanted was to head to her dorm and go to sleep but the Prefect schedule kept nagging at her. With a sigh, Hermione found some parchment on the desk and _accio_ ed some ink and a quill. She'd completely missed Malfoy snoozing on the couch, his breathing too quiet for her to hear over her stomping around the room. But when she turned to go to the desk she spotted a tuft of his blond hair against the head of the lounge. Her eyes wandered over him, staying a second too long on his visible biceps which she could see through his shirt due to his sleeping position. Hermione's eyebrows furrowed when she spotted a piece of parchment sitting loosely in his grasp.

She nicked the paper quickly and gave it a brief look-over.

He'd done the Prefect roster.

Hermione turned back to him, slightly bewildered at his actions. It was so unlike Malfoy to be doing things she hadn't even spoke of, let alone asked him to do. Hermione reached down to tap his shoulder, figuring she at least owed him to wake him up so he didn't have to sleep on the lounge, but then something in the back of her mind told her she owed him nothing and that he was just fulfilling his duties as Head Boy, she shouldn't be overwhelmed by the simplest thing.

She sighed at her lack of amnesty.

Draco seemed to be different this year, she would admit. But they had history and, for now, that outweighed anything.

Instead, Hermione summoned a blanket and placed it over him, blushing when he murmured something in his sleep. She didn't catch what he said. Hermione then turned in for the night, feeling a mixture of guilt and self-loyalty.

* * *

The sun poured in through the giant windows which was when Draco knew he certainly wasn't home anymore. He groaned and raised a hand to his face but as it had no effect over the bright light, he ducked his head beneath the blanket. Wait- blanket? Did he even _bring_ a blanket down here? He hadn't planned on falling asleep on the lounge - he now suffered a sore neck - but nonetheless, he was here.

What even was the time?

The bathroom door opened and Hermione Granger appeared. She was already dressed and ready for the day. He hoped she wasn't a cheerful morning person, those kinds of people always managed to be at the wrong end of one of Draco's hexes.

He heard another door open and the sound of footsteps. He was still struggling to get off the lounge when he realised Hermione had let.

* * *

Breakfast was a slice of toast with strawberry jam - one of Hermione's favourite combinations. She arrived in the Great Hall just before eight o'clock, she was surprised to see the amount of people already down there, having expected everyone still sleeping, causing them to run late. However, she was generally shocked when half the school was (almost) wide awake.

"Miss Granger!" Professor Vance - the new Head of Gryffindor and Transfiguration teacher - bustled toward her with stacks of parchment in his grasp. "Here is your timetable for this year. If you have any problems come by my office and we'll sort it out."

"Thanks, Professor." Hermione nodded to him.

He returned the nod and went about giving out timetables to the other students. Hermione looked down at her timetable. First up today was Charms with Flitwick. The only other classes she had today was Potions and Arithmancy. Not long after receiving her timetable Hermione was joined by Ginny, looking tired with noticeable bags under her eyes.

"Late night?" Hermione remarked amusedly.

Ginny rolled her eyes as she helped herself to a serving of bacons, eggs and toast. "Couldn't get to sleep. And I got another letter from Harry, spent about an hour writing a reply. It probably won't get to him for another week or so though."

"How is he? Did he mention Ron?" She asked.

"Well enough to write letters, I suppose." Ginny replied. "They're doing all sorts for Kingsley, apparently trying to track down some Death Eaters who've been on the run since the war."

It was true that Hermione missed the presence of her best friends but it had still been too awkward since she last saw Ron. She was trying to keep her distance. "I might write to them tonight." she decided out loud. Hermione watched Ginny eat away at her breakfast. "Have you got your timetable yet?"

Ginny nodded, chewing bits of toast. "Vance found me in the Entrance Hall. I've got Charms first up, you?"

Hermione realised that that would mean her and Ginny would be in the same classes together, now they were both studying their seventh year. "I do as well. Could be interesting, don't you think?"

Ginny smiled over at her friend. "If only this means we pair up in class."

Hermione laughed softly. "Of course." Hermione stared at Ginny's robes, noticing the Quidditch Captain badge pinned there. Ginny did mention in one of her previous letters that she was chosen as captain. Hermione was a little concerned that it might be a bit too stressful for Ginny, given she was a NEWT student now. But that may have been a bit hypocritical of her, she _was_ Head Girl, after all.

Hermione checked the time. It was now eight thirty. "I'm going to go grab my things. I'll meet you in Flitwick's classroom then?"

"Yeah alright. Don't blame me if I'm late though, you know how much I enjoy bacon." Ginny smirked.

* * *

Hermione entered the Head Dorm, determined to race up, grab her books and go to class, stopped midway through the portrait door. Malfoy was still slumped against the lounge, sleeping.

She sighed and this time, with no mercy, shook his shoulder until he was awake. "You're going to be late to class. It's half past eight." Hermione ignored his grumble and made way for her room. Her bedroom was much like the Room of Requirement, in a way. Architecturally, it shifted around until it fit Hermione's requirements, so it turned into a bigger form of her bedroom at home, a place that she loved. From her little bookshelf she grabbed the necessary books, put them in her rucksack and went back downstairs.

Malfoy was now in a sitting position on the couch.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Hurry up! It'll be awkward giving the Head Boy a detention for skipping class." She told him firmly.

Malfoy growled. "Oh stuff it, Granger." he snapped. Draco pushed past her brusquely and slammed the door of the bathroom behind him.

 _Eurgh, men._ She thought to herself. Whatever. She wasn't going to let Malfoy's horrible attitude dictate her day. Hermione attempted picking up her previous cheeriness and attended her first class of the day.

* * *

By midday Hermione was utterly exhausted again. She was not used to sitting in classrooms for hours, professors opening her brain and pouring in information anymore. She actually found she was quite fidgety and unable to concentrate properly on the board. This irritated her greatly and hoped it would pass soon. Right now she had crammed herself into a corner of the library, some books strewn over the surface, bookmarked for certain subjects, while, in front of her, she worked on elaborating some notes from Charms.

Potions would be beginning in fifteen minutes and she hadn't even cleared up her things yet. She was so disorganised today but blamed it on the 'first day back' syndrome. Tomorrow would be better. Hermione sighed at the sight in front of her. To be honest she hadn't really got that much done even though she was in the library for an hour and a half. Disappointed, she finally cleaned up everything and departed for the dungeons.

The dungeons were as dark as usual. Hermione took a shortcut from the library, arriving within ten minutes, having five minutes to spare. Inside the Potions classroom there was only six other students. Ginny wasn't taking Potions this year (Hermione was quite thankful for that, apparently Ginny's potion making was only a little better than Finnigan's) so that meant Hermione would be working on her own. She took her usual seat at the front of the classroom and sincerely hoped that old Sluggy was only giving them theory today.

She was hoping in vain.

A moment before Slughurn entered the dungeon, Draco arrived, looking fresh. Hermione wouldn't be surprised if he had skipped out on his first lesson despite her nagging him. He sat at the back of the class with - another no surprise - Blaise Zabini. Those two were as thick as thieves. She hated that.

"Well, well!" Slughorn said gleefully, taking his spot as his desk. "I do welcome you all back and thought that today we might have a bit of fun and have a go at Baruffio's Brain Elixir. Now of course I don't _expect_ perfect results but do try your hardest! You can find all the information on page ninety three. Oh! But one more thing before we start, today will be a free lesson, but from then on we're going to have partners for the remainder of the year. Professor McGonagall has certainly been pushing me to convince you all that you need to spread your wings a little bit. So I wrote up a quick list," Slughorn cleared his throat. "Zabini and Harper; Nott and Thomas; Abbott and Kensington-"

 _Oh, fuck._ She thought gravely to herself.

"Malfoy and Granger." Slughorn finished. "But, as I said, today is a free, work with whom you will, work by yourself, but as of next lesson, these will be your partners, no exceptions. Now off you go."


	4. Detention

**A/N: I'm sorry, I just _had_ to stick Hermione and Draco together during Potions. I needed another activity in which they were forced to interact with each other to develop their relationship further. Also, let me know if you think their relationship is progressing too fast/slow? Anyway, please enjoy and review!**

"What are you _doing?!_ " Hermione almost screeched when she looked over Draco's shoulder.

They were in the dungeons again having their fourth Potions lesson. This was the first official time Draco and Hermione were forced to work with one another on a practical lesson. It wasn't going so well. They had lacked any conversation, communicating in 'please pass me the...' and grunts.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Making the Doxycide? I thought that was fairly obvious, Granger."

She scowled at him and resisted the urge to hit him in the head with her book. "I already added the dragon liver!"

He stared at her for a second then spoke. "Well you could have told me that! Bloody Hell, Granger."

"It's not _my_ fault you doubled up!" Hermione snapped. "If you'd been watching then you would have _known_ I'd added in the liver." She folded her arms angrily. "Now it's going to be completely wrong."

Draco ignored her and peered over the cauldron to assess the damage. According to the Potions book it was supposed to be turning a soft lilac... their potion was a dark velvet and bubbling intensely. He winced. Even Draco knew there was no salvaging this one.

Hermione continued to mutter profanities under her breath, Draco caught _ignorant bastard_ and _arrogant sod_ in there somewhere. He frowned. "Well if you ticked off the checklist then maybe this wouldn't have happened." Draco told her.

"Stop trying to pin this on me, Malfoy! I was making the potion correctly until you fu-"

"-What on _earth_ is happening over here?" Slughorn's voice approached them.

Hermione turned to their professor in a huff. " _Draco_ has screwed up the Doxycide."

"Oh it's not just my fault, Granger." he growled.

Slughorn chuckled measly. "Now, now, children-" Hermione hated that she was now apparently fourteen years old again. "-Lets not go blaming this on one another, it's an obvious means of poor communication," he gave them both a look. "Now, let me check this potion and see if there is anything I can do to remedy it."

Professor Slughorn was looking at the potion for one second when a giant blub of potion flew up and hit him in the cheek.

"Agh!" he cried out, hand flying to the wound.

"Professor!" Hermione gasped. She grabbed her wand from the table, thinking up of some kind soothing spell that might help in terms of his injury, the professor was now stumbling around every three meters, crashing into things. "Oh, fuck." she whispered under her breath. Nothing was coming to mind. What was she to do?! What would help an incorrect potion burn?

Suddenly, Slughorn made a very loud sigh of relief and removed his hand. Where he had been hit by the liquid was now bright red but it did not look like any life-threatening damage was made. Hermione looked back and saw Draco with his wand in his hand.

"Granger! Malfoy! Detention, tonight at eight." Slughorn bustled passed them in a rush. "And clean up this mess!"

Draco gave Hermione a look then turned away and removed the horrifying potion with a flick of his wand. Hermione stood, transfixed by him. What spell had he used? It was most obviously non-verbal but was she that desperate to find out? She felt incredibly guilty for Slughorn. If they hadn't flubbed the potion it might not have hit him in the face. And she can't believe she couldn't think of a spell to help him! What was wrong with her?

Hermione opened her mouth to ask Malfoy about the spell but he was no longer in the room. She sighed and began to clear away the remaining ingredients. Typical Malfoy.

* * *

"So now you have detention with Malfoy tonight?" Ginny confirmed once Hermione had caught up with her at lunch time.

Hermione nodded. "Unfortunately. But I don't understand _why_ Slughorn had to give us detention. It's not really our fault the potion bubbled so much it hit him in the face." Hermione was used to detentions now (thanks Harry and Ron) but today she just felt so meek about it. She was Head Girl and apparently she couldn't go the first two weeks of school without getting a detention. So much for leading by example.

Ginny shrugged. "He was probably just embarrassed. Oh well, don't worry about it too much, Hermione, it's just detention. Not like you've never been detained before." Her friend smirked at her.

"How was Alchemy?" Hermione asked to get the topic off her.

"Oh, you know, dull." Ginny said. "There aren't many of us but I prefer it that way. Did you want to stay in Gryffindor Tower tonight? Might get you away from the ferret for a few hours."

Hermione smiled. "Yeah, I'll come and say hello to everyone for a bit."

A distraction would certainly help Hermione soothe herself. Within the past fortnight she had been flatout supervising detentions, doing patrols, keeping up with the Prefect roster, taming Malfoy (as Ginny liked to call it) and her usual load of homework. She was averaging on about six hours sleep per night, heading to bed at one o'clock and waking some time around seven. And the ever-looming reminder of the Tetrad Championship coming kept her occupied when everything else wasn't. She had noticed multiple changes about the school - something she knew everyone else didn't - and by far, wasn't impressed.

It was four days until Hermione's birthday, something she hoped might calm her down too. Just days ago Ginny had insisted on sneaking out of school and having a night out - Hermione agreed to having a small get together in the Head Dorm, something she hoped might infuriate Malfoy. His continuous routine of taunting Hermione with his unnecessary comments and sarcastic remarks was keeping her on her toes and now she was purposely going out of her way to piss him off.

"So who is coming by on Friday?" Ginny asked.

"I think just you, Neville and Luna if she wants." Hermione said. "It's nothing really special."

Ginny scoffed. "Hermione you'll be _twenty one_! Of course it's special!"

"Gee go and tell the whole world why don't you? I know I'm old." She retorted.

"You know that's not what I meant."

"I know, I know." Hermione sighed. "But, honestly, it's fine. Besides I'll see Ron and Harry most likely during the-" Hermione stopped herself. She almost spilled the beans on the upcoming 'school event'. McGonagall told Hermione not two days ago that there would be honourary guests attending some of the nights of the Championship. "Christmas holidays." Hermione finished, hoping she covered well enough.

Ginny gave Hermione a weird look. After a moment of useless deduction she spoke. "Right."

Hermione looked at the time. Her next class was at two fifteen, it was only half past one but Hermione got out of her seat anyway. "I better get going. See you tonight!" She waved Ginny off and disappeared from the Hall before any questions could be asked.

* * *

Draco sat at the back of the Transfiguration class, bored. It somehow didn't feel right to have Vance up in front of them instead of McGonagall. Vance was not even an Animagus, making for a very boring class to be honest, at least with a cat prowling around there was something to watch. He glanced at Theo beside him who was almost falling asleep in his chair. Draco bit his lip. This class was going to be the death of him, if only he could get out...

When Theodore snored Draco kicked one of the legs of his chair and it fell down, taking Theo to the ground as well.

"Fuck!" Theo yelled when his head collided with the hard ground.

Draco looked up to see Vance striding toward them, demanding what was going on back here.

"It's Theo, Sir!" Draco said in his teacher-charming voice. Vance hadn't really interacted with Malfoy all that much, it could be useful. "His chair just kind of gave way and he fell off. I think he's hurt."

Vance grumbled something about teenagers.

"I'll take him up to the Hospital Wing," Draco offered and immediately helped his friend up. Theo resting on one of Draco's shoulders and his bag on his other, Draco withdrew.

Once out of the Transfiguration room and into the courtyard Theo yanked himself away. "I knew it was you, you bloody bastard." he spat.

Draco chuckled darkly. "I'm sorry, 1 I couldn't help myself and 2 I was figuratively dying of boredom. Vance has about as much charisma as a gold fish. But you wouldn't have known that because you were falling asleep."

Theo grumbled. He froze himself some ice and summoned an old shirt from his dormitory then applied the cold press to his head. "Still. Couldn't have just used the feeling unwell excuse?"

"Theo if I wanted to laze around my dorm and do nothing all day then I would have done it. It feels like forever since I properly hung out with someone. And no, Granger does not count because I live with the lion."

"Did you just reference Hermione Granger as a lion?" he asked. "As in feisty and will-powered and queen of them all?" Theo raised an eyebrow.

Draco's cheeks warmed. "No! As in bushy mane and notoriously loud."

"Right. Sure." Theo rolled his eyes. "Whatever then, what is this master plan of escaping?"

Draco smirked. "I thought you'd never ask."

* * *

Spending two hours in the Gryffindor Common Room with some old friends put Hermione at ease before making the trek to Slughorn's office. It was nice to reminisce over their old times at Hogwarts, old Quidditch games, the Weasley exit, The Triwizard Tournament, cancelled exams in year two and the like. She spent a lot of the night laughing, Hermione couldn't remember the last time she had properly laughed like this. The laugh that just bursts out of your mouth, making you wheeze and cackle until your abs hurt. It was really nice to share that. Not only that but somehow Ginny managed to nick some floo powder and, when no one was looking, they spoke to Harry in (apparently) Ireland.

Hermione entered Slughorn's office at the right time and saw Draco standing there.

"Ah, Granger, yes. Well. Tonight you'll be cleaning up the dungeon, a timely task if I do say so myself, however, I'm sure you'll make do. And no wands please. I'll check in with you at midnight." Slughorn pointed to some buckets and sponges and sent them to work in the dungeons. And to make sure they weren't skivving off early, a portrait in the dungeon that had a duplicate in Slughorn's office would keep him update, the professor assured them.

* * *

"Lumos maxima!" A blue light illuminated the entire dungeon.

Hermione gave Draco a look. They moved at the same time and set to work in silence. Hermione grabbed a sponge and dipped it in the water in the bucket and started scrubbing the tabletops while Draco started to repair some of the damage caused by Slughorn earlier in the day. At least he had the decency to work and not sit back doing nothing.

Minutes went by and they said nothing to each other still. Hermione continued to wash over the tables, following suit with Draco and ignoring him completely. It wasn't her fault they had history, she constantly told herself. No one could _expect_ them to just jump into the roles of Heads of the school and be totally fine with it. She suffered years of being called _mudblood_ and put up with his horrible, prejudiced bullying. However, it was so long ago since she properly felt demeaned by Draco Malfoy. She acclimatised to the - what she liked to call - _sombre Malfoy_ during sixth year, his taunts and rudeness slimmed day by day, no doubt because of the never-ending pressure put on him to prove himself in the ranks of the Death Eaters and worse, Voldemort himself.

But she sensed a more mature Malfoy this year which took her by surprise. He faced a trial for his life because of his allegiance to the Dark Lord but was inevitably set free due to his (sincere?) remorse, age and the act of his mother lying about Harry's death during the world. Not much could be said for Lucius Malfoy who was locked away in Azkaban for the remainder of his life. Fates of Death Eaters were all over the newspapers during that time, Hermione kept up with the majority of it.

Hermione sat up abruptly and faced Draco, still repairing some smashed glasses with his wand. Feeling a pair of eyes on him, Draco turned. Granger was staring at him. Why?

"Want to take a picture while you're at it?" He asked uncomfortably.

"Can I have a look at it?" Hermione asked in a voice he never really heard come out of her mouth.

Draco scrunched his face up. "What do you mean? Look at what?"

"Your Dark Mark."

Silence fell between them again. No one had ever asked to his Dark Mark, nor would Draco have complied anyway. It was his shame. His every day reminder that he did not deserve the good he received. He absolutely had the fucking thing. It got him into all sorts of trouble and every time he looked at it he felt sick to his stomach.

But, for a reason unknown to him, Draco rolled up his sleeve carefully. Hermione put the sponge down and approached carefully. Draco couldn't look at her face while she scanned the tattoo, he felt too vulnerable. His inner, most darkest secret just pouring out to the girl he bullied for years. Why was he showing it to her? Why was he talking to her at all? She loathed him with a passion and so she should.

Draco pulled his shirt sleeve back down after a minute and cleared his throat. Hermione looked at his face uncertainly, aware of his uneasiness. It wasn't what she'd really been expecting. She'd never seen the Dark Mark up this close. It almost moved, the black snake, that was. She didn't know how she felt about ink permanently etched on her skin.

Although, she wasn't done yet. She was curious.

"Did it hurt? When he put it on you?"

He sighed. "Why do you want to know? So you can have another reason to hate me? So you can go on and on to Pothead and Weasley about all the terrible things Draco Malfoy has done?"

"What? Of course not-" Hermione frowned. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have ask... I won't." she muttered. She'd struck a chord which was the opposite of what she was actually trying to do. Hermione returned to her scrubbing, unaware of Draco's intense gaze on her.

An hour went by and nothing was heard but glass repairing itself and Hermione's scrubbing.

"It... kind of burned." Draco was talking again.

Hermione didn't risk looking at the Head Boy.

"I was young and... impressionable." Draco shook his head. "I was stupid. Naive. Proud. Cowardly. I was nothing like you or Potter or even Weasley. Stupid and fat as he may be, they were brave enough to stand against the Dar- Voldemort." He made himself say the name. Draco took a breath. "Then, I suppose, if you're brought up surrounded by one opinion then that's the only thing you really know..."

She looked at him this time and was met by his stormy grey eyes. She found them a little daunting. Hermione was at a loss for words. Was he opening up to her? Should she say something? Or would that ruin everything? Her mouth opened and closes several times. Draco chuckled weakly. "It's fine, Granger. You don't need to say anything. I'm talking nonsense anyway..."

He went and started a new chore: fixing all the shelves.

Hermione stared at the table which was shining now. She wished she had said something.


	5. TTJ

**A/N:** Really sorry for not updating this sooner. Writer's block hit me pretty hard and self confidence levels decreased significantly. Sorry for the short chapter. Please review though guys, I'd like some feedback :)

 **Trigger warning [!]**

* * *

It felt like the gaping hole in his chest was tearing him apart, burning him from inside out.

The pain was excruciating, it took him from toes to head, doubling at his heart. It was like a fire, slowly igniting his entire body, every chorus of flames flickered hotter, causing spasms in his legs and arms. The blood was pooling on the tiles, scarlet red, so obviously morbid and explicit...yet he could hardly forgive himself for the crimes he committed and so, the pain went on. The blade piercing what was left of his now ruby stained skin.

The shrieks of the helpless victim, the tortured innocent, banged through his ears, burning him up once more. The physical pain was supposed to stop these emotions. Give him something other than stomach churning guilt but alas all he could feel was the pain he caused and shame he deserved.

* * *

 _Sombre Malfoy_ returned the day after detention. Hermione wasn't surprised at all. Additionally, the moment had thrown Hermione off so going around ignoring one another suited Hermione's tastes too.

Though sleep was a dream that never came last night. She lay on her bed, staring at the canopy, wondering what she could have said to make things different. Hermione almost hated herself for staying silent.

She would never find out what could have been.

Draco was up and out of the Head dormitory the next morning before Hermione even entered the bathroom. She expected the following days to be difficult but Draco proved her wrong. Potions went shockingly well, receiving an E on the Invigoration Draught they concocted together. Draco also offered to take over a detention Hermione was supposed to supervise in order for her to meet with McGonagall (regarding the Championship). Hermione was pleasantly surprised by the sudden 'rapport' they created.

* * *

On the evening of Hermione's birthday Luna, Ginny and Neville accompanied her in the Head Dormitory and they spent the night unwrapping presents and drinking a (prohibited) bottle of Firewhiskey Ginny somehow acquired. Hermione turned a blind eye. It was her birthday after all. Harry and Ron's presents arrived this morning as well as a box of chocolate from Hagrid, a cute knitted sweater from Mrs Weasley and a new book from her parents. At eleven o'clock the party disbanded. Hermione cleared up the area with a broad smile on her face. She felt simply radiant. But now that the chattered had ceased she felt the growing tiredness beginning to pound in her head. Intent on heading to bed right after stripping the Common Area of rubbish, Hermione bumped into a figure as she stepped backwards.

She immediately turned around to see the Head Boy hovering over her. Hermione cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Excuse me, Malfoy..." she said and tried to skirt past him but Malfoy stood in her way. She let out a breath and met his eyes. "What is it?"

"I just wanted to say happy birthday. You were gone before I was up this morning and we didn't have class together."

She nodded. "Well. Thank you. I'm going up-" Her sentence was cut off when Draco pulled a bottle of Pure Malt Whiskey. Draco half smirked at the brunette. Hermione nibbled her lip.

"Let's have a drink?" He asked a question but Hermione presumed the decision was already made on his end.

She was feeling buzzed earlier after two glasses of Firewhiskey but had stopped there to avoid incoherent behaviours. Now all she wanted was to go to bed. "I don't know Malfoy... I've already reached my alcohol limit for now... I'd just like to sleep." She didn't wait for a response and quickly pushed her way to the door. "Tomorrow night?"

Draco had no choice, she'd already passed through the threshold of her bedroom door. "Tomorrow." he told her. Hermione closed the door behind her. A mixture of disappointment and frustration crept up on Draco.

He was used to having girls swoon over him, practically leaping at the chance to have a drink with _the_ Mr Malfoy. Granger was much too different. He couldn't figure out her motives. Sure, she wasn't the same rule-abiding, teacher's pet from previous years at Hogwarts but she still seemed very hesitant in being with him. Draco had to remind himself that Hermione Granger wasn't interested in a broken, ex-Death Eater from a family of discriminating bastards.

Draco trudged back into his dorm and stowed away the Pure Malt Whiskey feeling dispirited.

* * *

Inside her room Hermione flopped down onto the bed, breathing out. She stripped off her shirt and jeans and crawled beneath the covers, too tired to function. The events of the night unfolded in her mind. It was the most fun she'd had since returning to Hogwarts. The castle played tricks on her. She'd be walking to her next class, mind reeling off with a thousand things to be done when a sudden vision of dead bodies, flying debris and coloured explosions filled her mind. The war might be over but it would forever be carved in her memory, intricately detailed. It was a Hell she couldn't escape from.

Sleep was taking her. Breaths getting deeper, thoughts dissipating.

 _Tap, tap tap_

Her eyes flew open.

 _Tap, tap, tap_

She rubbed her face and pulled her sleepily over the bed, locating the taps. The lights turned on dimly. Hermione spotted the silhouette of an owl outside the window. Who would be sending letters at this time? Hermione quickly opened the window and allowed the bird entrance. The bird perched himself on her dresser, she fumbled with the letter, making the owl jitter with nerves.

Finally the letter was in her hands and she unrolled it curiously.

 _HG,_

 _Quidditch Pitch 9pm, Friday_

 _TTJ_

* * *

"TTJ?" Ginny echoed.

All morning a debate occupied Hermione's thoughts. She wasn't going to tell anyone about the mysterious note from last night, in case it was just a prank, but it fell from her stack of Prefect papers that she set down at Gryffindor table and Ginny snagged it.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. Hermione shrugged. "I honestly thought of everything I possibly could. Nothing came to mind."

Her friend passed the paper back over. "Are you going to go?"

Hermione frowned. "I don't know. I don't know if it's a hoax or genuine. Maybe they didn't want to be figured out and used a different name. Do you think I should go?"

"If I've learnt anything it's to not trust mysterious words on paper..." Ginny said, raising her goblet to her lips.

"I know." Hermione sighed. "But maybe if I'm just wary..."

"I could go with you if you like?" Ginny offered.

Hermione shook her head. "Thanks, but no thanks, Gin. If they wanted anyone else to go then they would have been messaged too. I'll go down at eight fifty, rummage around but if there's nothing I'll head up before nine. Just in case."

Ginny nodded. "Good plan."


	6. Fear

**A/N: Very sorry for the late update, I was meaning to write a chapter the other day but I got the flu and my brain has been a pile of mush for days because influenza hits me really hard when I get it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and please review!**

 **[trigger warning]**

* * *

Potions was Hermione's first class of the day. She sped-walked down to the dungeons, parting from Ginny. Hermione didn't see Draco that morning (nothing different) so was feeling a little anxious to meet the Head Boy after their agreement for a drink. She put her rucksack down on the floor and sat at her usual table at the front of the classroom. Slughorn was seated at his desk, humming softly to a song Hermione didn't recognise. On the board was a bunch of instructions for the day's lesson. Draco wouldn't be happy. It was theory.

* * *

Draco groaned internally once he stepped inside the Potions classroom. Granger was already seated at the front. Obvious. He muttered profanities under his breath, plopping himself right beside her unhappily. 1) He loathed theoretical lessons, they took forever and were very uneventful. 2) He could literally feel the sniggers of his Slytherin friends behind him. Stupid Slughorn. Stupid pairings.

If Hermione noticed him sit down she didn't say anything as she was already scribbling down notes from the board as fast as lightning, her nose almost touching the paper. Draco opened his mouth to remark on her choice of seating when Slughorn got to his stumpy legs and began to explain the extremely boring lesson planned. Once the professor was done Draco sighed and flipped open his potions book, starting on the task.

However, he couldn't focus all that well.

The scratch of Hermione's quill kept him very distracted. His gaze trailed to her from the corner of his eye. She was continuing to write at an ungodly pace. He assumed she was already halfway through. How could she be so immersed that she couldn't even tell he was looking at her-?

Hermione looked up at that second and met Draco's gaze. She arched an eyebrow. "What is it?"

He gulped. "Nothing." said Draco, shaking his head.

She returned to her work and Draco tried to move his concentration back to his work. Blank paper and a fuckload of writing to be done. Draco dabbed ink on his quill and began the task disheartened. He was vaguely aware of the itchiness emerging from his arm. Draco refused to scratch but it annoyed him for the remainder of the lesson.

* * *

During his second break he couldn't stand it any longer. Draco made way for the Head Dormitory, knowing that Granger would be going to her Arithmancy class. Once inside the portrait door he flung off his robe, letting it land wherever, and disappeared into the bathroom, undoing the buttons on his left sleeve at the same time. The sight beneath his sleeve was nothing new. The red and raw lines etched into his forearm were neat, never more than a centimetre apart and travelling from elbow to wrist. The tenderness of the cuts irritated him daily, as did the itchiness, but he never stopped, for this was his punishment he deserved.

Beneath the inflamed abrasions was his excruciatingly hideous Dark Mark, almost moving like it did many years ago. He imagined it sometimes yet it felt so real, _looked_ so real. It made him sick to his stomach. Being branded like that... like some cattle! Forever prisoner of the evil force of Voldemort.

He would never be free.

Not from the Dark.

And not from his sins.

Draco reached for a bottle of moisturiser and applied it to the screaming cuts. He'd been doing it so often now that he lost count. Some of the cuts were fresh, from the previous day before Granger's birthday 'celebration', however, the itchy ones were possibly two or three days old. Draco washed his hands and dried them off. He rolled down his sleeve again, thankful for the relief of the cream.

He shouldn't have done it. Suffering was part of the whole deal... what was the point in doing it if he was just going to treat it like a _real_ wound?

He wondered what Granger would this of this behaviour. Who knew, maybe she did it too. But that was absurd, he thought. That proud lion would never purposely hurt herself. She didn't have reason to. She was the hero in this fairytale, not the villain. She hadn't committed any crimes. Well, maybe some crimes of illegal spells, but nothing what Draco had done! Nothing as horrible and heartless and cowardly as himself.

 _Abominable weakling,_ Draco told himself. _Yes, let the insults consume you. They're all true. What the public hiss when they see you. Traitor. Repellent ferret. Rat. Hiding behind Mummy's skirts, just like your father._

The flash of green light he'd seen so many times rippled in front of his eyes. It was all too familiar. The spell that took the life of Albus Dumbledore. Caused by Severus Snape, dead now too, but it was supposed to be Draco. It was all supposed to be Draco. Because of his father. His namby-pamby father, Lucius. Draco wished he'd let Dumbledore protect him... he wish he didn't waste time. Perhaps he could have been hidden, like Potter - yes, Draco knew about Potter being under that stupid Invisibility Cloak, not until after the war, of course. He should have taken Dumbledore's offer of protection. Perhaps he would never have been in that mess. And neither would his family. The Malfoy's could have been protected, safe.

But all he did was act on fear. Just like Lucius.

The fear took over him, made him quiver to the point where his knees could have buckled. Reckless, impulsive, terrifying fear. And the price was Dumbledore's life and Draco's innocence.

Draco hadn't realised he was shaking. He gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles turning white, his face in the mirror pale. He undid his tie messily because it was too hard to breathe. Draco flung it onto the ground then accompanied the piece of fabric, crumbling to the cold flooring in a pile of disgrace. He buried his head deep into his knees, allowing sobs to fumble from his mouth, each cut off with a sharp intake of breath then starting again.

Why, why, why _him_?! Why did he do all those stupid things?! Dumb boy! Stupid, stupid boy!

Draco bashed his hands against the cabinet repeatedly, over and over again. Pain erupted from his fingers but he carried on, smashing his freezing knuckles into the doors, going going going, hittinghitting- keep going,

 _painpainpainpainpain_

* * *

"Mate, what happened to your hands?"

Blaise was lounging on a cough in the (newly decorated) Slytherin Common Room; Draco was catching the warmth of the fire standing right in front of it. Draco gave a weak shrug at his friend's question.

"I fell." He said.

Blaise picked up the dismissive tone and did not press the issue.

* * *

Nestled under a pile of books, charts and blankets, Hermione was supposedly doing her Defence Against the Dark Arts homework at nine o'clock although she had now read the same line six times and still wasn't understanding it entirely. Her eyes just flew over the sentences, the words having no meaning whatsoever. She blamed Malfoy.

No, Malfoy was not currently _in_ the Head Dormitory but the essence of him was. She seemed to be replaying the memory from last night, Draco asking for a drink, brandishing that whiskey in front of her. Oh how tempted and confused she was. And now she was setting herself up for some big nothing because knowing Malfoy he'd probably forgotten about their 'deal' for a drink tonight. Surprisingly, she felt a little disappointed that he'd forgotten. Maybe that moment in detention had wavered her judgement of him for the time being. But now Hermione knew that he couldn't have changed. He had to be the same egotistical bully as he always had been-

The portrait door suddenly swung open to reveal a dishevelled looking Malfoy. She peered up from her books, almost mouse-like, and took in the sight of him. Tousled hair, crinkled robes. What _had_ he been doing?

"Look what the cat dragged in." She muttered loud enough for him to hear, awaiting some kind of sarcastic remark.

"What?" He asked, confused.

Hermione blushed. "Muggle saying." She told him, face back in her book.

"Argh, whatever." Draco grumbled. She didn't have to guess he was going to his room. Probably not likely to return.

She started to pack up her things - using her hands because she was too lazy to fetch her wand from the inside of her robes somewhere. Hermione drew the curtains, prepared to turn in for an early night.

Then Draco appeared again.

Only this time he was wrapped up in his duvet and clutching the bottle of whiskey they had yet to consume. Draco had a devilish grin on his face. "I believe we had a deal, Granger."

Hermione returned to the lounge, hiding her grin because her uncertainty still outweighed her excitement. Draco settled himself on a seat looking like a caterpillar. He summoned two glasses and cast a levitation charm on them plus the bottle, bottle fill up the glasses whenever they were getting low by itself. A glass floated its way to Hermione and she tentatively took a sip.

Draco noticed her doubt. "It's not poison, if that's what you're thinking."

She started to wish it was so she could avoid this awkward encounter.


	7. Pure Malt Whiskey

"I can't just sit here and-and talk. I need to go over some work... or something." Hermione said uncomfortably after five minutes of silence. Draco had been staring at her intensely and she couldn't figure out what he was thinking.

"You never stop working." Draco said in a tone that softly sounded like admiration.

"I like it." she admitted. Hermione cleared her throat. "Uh did you get the letter on the Judge's arrival?"

He nodded slowly. "Yes. Entrance Hall just after midnight, if I'm not mistaken."

Hermione blushed softly. "Yeah... We should decide what Prefects we want to help with the organising of events."

"I agree. Do you have a hat?"

She gave him a puzzled look. "Um, why?"

"We'll draw their names out randomly. Quick and efficient."

Hermione nibbled her lip. "I don't know... doesn't seem all that fair. Shouldn't we agree on people who we know won't go blabbing to others? I mean, I know they're _all_ Prefects but some of them I've heard are loose-lipped."

"Which is more of a reason to do it randomly. Everyone gets equal chance." Draco summoned some of the things from Hermione's pile and a beanie from his own dorm. Hermione grabbed the things from Draco, wanting to do it herself, and started to scribble the names of the Prefects on the paper, ripping each name off and depositing the paper into the beanie when she was done.

After they chose six random Prefects ( _"No, not Harrington, he's a twat."_ said Draco. _"How about Rose then?"_ Hermione suggested in replacement.) they tattled onto the subject of class: Slughorn's annoying theory lessons; what Transfiguration was like without McGonagall; how Hermione hadn't fallen asleep from Professor Binns talking - if you could call it that. Hermione did admit to refilling her glass with more drink at least twice until she started to feel like she couldn't do any more Tetrad arrangements. The Head Girl put down her quill and sipped at the Pure Malt Whiskey, catching Draco's eye. He smirked his famous Malfoy smirk at her and she found herself feeling slightly jittery. The drink, definitely...

"So why did you come back to Hogwarts this year?" She asked him curiously. "I pinned you for the type of person to escape while you could."

Draco smiled sadly. "You pin me for a lot of things I'm not." He only half-regretted letting that come out his mouth. Before she could say something else Draco continued. "Mainly because of my mother. She wanted me to complete my education. Because sixth year was basically non-existent... and, well, we both know what happened in what was supposed to be seventh."

She nodded. "Was that the only reason?" She asked, sensing more.

Draco shrugged. He took another sip of his drink. "I think I was hoping to find something here..." Draco waved his hand around in circles. "Innocence, forgiveness." He shook his head. "I don't know. Something like that." He gave a dramatic sigh. "But how wrong I was."

Hermione frowned sadly at him. She pitied the poor boy. He endured so much during the war, and after. It was a different kind of suffering from everyone else but he had suffered and Hermione could see it leaking out of him, the pain he was obviously trying to hold in must have finally been breaking the thin glass keeping him intact. It was then she realised how much of a fragile state he must have been in.

"I'm sorry, Draco." She muttered.

Draco swallowed then laughed nervously. "Why are you sorry? Have you wronged me?"

Hermione shook her head no. "I'm sorry for what _they_ did to you. When you were just a boy. It was beyond cruel." She caught his weak smile. "You're not as bad as everyone thinks. Maybe you were, years ago. But you're not now. I think."

"You _think_? Well thanks Granger, that helps a lot." he laughed shortly. She giggled softly too. "You're not half bad as I thought too. You changed over the war. It was written all over you when I saw you on the train."

"Really?" She asked, taken aback from that.

"You're not _as_ uptight as you used to be. Much more lenient. And fidgety too, I might add." His gaze quickly drifted to her leg which Hermione had, unknowingly, been bouncing it up and down. She stopped immediately and her cheeks warmed. Draco laughed again. "And you blush sometimes when I talk to you."

"I do not!" Hermione said fiercely, turning redder. She covered her face with her hands, totally aware she'd turned bright red and didn't like it one bit. Definitely the alcohol.

"Don't do that." Draco commanded gently. "Don't hide your face."

Slowly, her hands descended from her pink face and fell into her lap. She coughed quietly. "I think I'm done drinking for the night, Draco." She yawned and stretched, her arms flew upwards and an exposed part of skin at her hip caught Draco's sight. He trailed his eyes up her slim figure, tracing her round hips and narrow waist... the curve of her breasts through her school shirt. He licked his lips.

Hermione brushed her hand through her hair messily and got to her feet. "Thank you for the whiskey, I really enjoyed it." Without taking any of her things she vanished into her dorm; Draco had watched her round ass climb those steps. Merlin her butt looked like two pringles hugging.

"No problem." Draco muttered, now alone with a half bottle of whiskey and growing boner.

* * *

In Draco's dream he was following the silhouette of a woman. He was chasing her through a field of long grass that went all the way up to his knees. It wasn't an aggressive chase though, more slow and teasing. She kept looking behind her at him but he could never make out her face, just the beautiful, bouncy, brown curls of her hair, flying over her shoulder graciously.

Draco had been confused about that dream. It kept his thoughts occupied whilst he completed his morning routine. His dreams were usually nightmares, flashbacks to before the war and during, always vile and cruel. This one had been so random and sudden he didn't know what to make of it.

When Draco left the bathroom, steam billowing behind him, he immediately felt something was off. Lately, when Draco finished in the bathroom, Hermione would be leaving, normally she'd greet him with something like " _I've put the detention list in your pigeon hole."_ but Hermione was not in sight. Not even the curtains were open. Draco bit his lip and after a moment of deciding what to do, he took the risk of going to inspect the Head Girl's bedroom.

The door was shut. Hesitantly, he undid the door and pushed it open, ignoring the groan of the hinges. The first thing he noticed was how dark it was in there. He could barely see a metre in front of him. Second thing was the figure curled up beneath the blankets on the bed. Draco frowned. Was she sick? Hermione would _never_ miss class in a thousand years. Draco created some light.

"Hermione?" He spoke.

No response.

Draco almost groaned. He took a few steps forward until he was at her bed then gently tapped where he estimated to be her shoulder. "Hermione?" he tried again.

This time she stirred, just. It took a bit of prodding until Hermione was a little coherent. Draco informed her that she had slept in and that it was already eight thirty. She didn't seem to care and was only communicating in grunts.

He frowned. "Are you okay?" he asked, a little bit concerned now. "What's wrong?"

A mumble of words he didn't understand trailed from under the duvet. Draco pulled them back a little. "What was that?"

"I have a hangover." she grumbled and pulled the duvet back into place.

Draco had to force himself not to laugh. She'd _barely_ drank anything, Jesus she was such a lightweight. He found it quite funny but also had the urge to jump in and hold her until she felt better.

But that was out of the question.

"Here, let me get something for you. I have the perfect cure." He promised. Hermione barely even noticed his absence while he went to fetch his own concoction of hangover cures. Draco returned bearing a small vile of thick black liquid. Hermione was sitting up in her bed now, genuinely curious as to what could help her.

Draco passed the vile to her and Hermione looked down at it sceptically. He rolled his eyes. "It's _fine_ , I promise. It'll take about half an hour before kicking in though, but after that it'll be like you never even touched alcohol." He watched he swallow the liquid. Draco laughed at the sour face she pulled.

"Is it really past eight thirty?" she asked in a tone he recognised as worry.

He shrugged. "Yeah, but we can be late. We'll just say we were tending to Head duties. Nobody even thinks to question that."

Hermione sighed. She started to scoot over to the edge of the bed but then stopped. Hermione cleared her throat.

Draco raised his eyebrow. "What?"

She looked at him as if it was obvious. "Get out! I'm going to get ready."

When Draco didn't move Hermione flushed red. "Draco, I only have knickers and a top on. You're not seeing me in that. So get out!"

He put his hands up defensively and climbed to his feet, though would have much rather stayed and watched her prance about in her underwear. Especially those long legs of hers...

* * *

"Is something wrong with the ferret?" Ginny said aloud.

Hermione and Ginny were at lunch after an exhausting lesson of Charms with Flitwick. Hermione, pouring over a library book, getting bread crumbs everywhere, then looked up at her friend.

"Pardon?" Hermione queried.

"Malfoy-" Ginny nodded her head in the direction of the Head Boy, squished between Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini. He was picking at his own food, unaware of Ginny. "He hasn't stopped looking at you all morning."

Hermione blushed deeply but gave a roll of her eyes. "I think you're seeing things, Ginny." She turned herself and looked over at Draco over her shoulder. He smirked slightly in her direction. Hermione didn't know how to perceive that.

* * *

A large eagle swooped down through the Great Hall and swerved toward the Slytherin table. It settled itself right on Draco's shoulder, causing him to break eye contact with Hermione. He petted the bird gently then removed the letter, curious to see what it was about.

"What's that?" asked Blaised curiously and peered over Draco's shoulder. He pushed his mate away. From the handwriting he could tell it was from his mother.

 _Draco,_

 _I have to keep this short, my dear, but your father and I have planned a lovely meeting with the Croft family and their beautiful daughter, Aria. They will be coming to the manor for luncheon on September 30th, I have already organised with the Headmistress for you to be signed out for a few hours then signed back in._

 _Wishing you all the best at school,_

 _Mother._

 _PS, I think Aria likes tulips._

Draco immediately folded the paper and stored it in his pocket and a feeling of anger overwhelmed him. He knew what this would be about. For years his mother taunted him about setting him up with a pretty girl with a respectable family name and reputation. Draco had always been too young for any proper betrothals to be made but now he, apparently, was expected to be settling down. Possibly while he was still in school. This was an affiance.

Draco hated that. Why couldn't he choose his own wife? He understood how things were done in his family, how things were always done - to be set up with a powerful and pure individual, for the politics and connections mainly - but couldn't he find his own woman?

Of course the meaning of marriage being love was absolutely absurd in the Malfoy family. He took his final bite of toast and clambered to his feet.

"What's up mate?" Blaise asked.

"Nothing." Draco snapped. "It's fine." he gave a look to his friend. "I'll see you later." As Draco withdrew from the Hall he caught Hermione's eye. She was looking at him with narrowed eyebrows. He coughed and looked away. It wasn't any of her business.


	8. Prejudice

**A/N: I do apologise for how long it's been since I last updated! I kind of hit a roadblock with my writing and then had trouble accessing the site. I also leave for a week long expedition in two days so I won't be updating for at least another week after this one. Hope you're all well and enjoy!**

* * *

Throughout her morning classes Hermione felt agitated. She had noticed Draco leaving the Great Hall looking troubled that morning. This bothered her more than it should have done. She couldn't concentrate properly knowing there was something wrong with her 'partner in crime'. She spent half the morning going over possibilities of what could have been wrong, and the other half wondering why she cared so much. Regardless of that, at lunch, Hermione sped to the Head Dormitory, hoping to find Draco there.

She was lucky.

Seated deeply into the lounge, Draco was off in his own world. Hermione approached him carefully. She wasn't sure whether he knew she was inside.

"Draco?" Hermione said hesitantly.

The Head Boy looked over his shoulder at her. Physically, nothing appeared to be wrong with him. But Hermione knew he could hide his emotions well if he chose to. But maybe she was looking too deep into this. Maybe everything _was_ fine and she was just interpreting it horribly wrong.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Draco said shortly. "Why?"

"Well, it's just that... this morning. In the Hall. You left early, I just thought you didn't look so great."

He shook his head, Hermione gulped. "It was nothing. I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me, you have better things to be doing."

"That's- not true. At all." She informed him. Hermione was afraid this might go a little pear shaped. "We work together. I need to know you're okay. You're my... my.."

She heard him scoff sharply. Draco got to his feet. A glare in his eyes shot toward her but it wasn't full of hate. "I'm your what?" he growled, throwing his hands up. "Your friend? That's bullshit and you know it is."

A heavy weight fell in her stomach. That stung. Had all this time 'together' really just been a fake? Or was this him lashing out? Hermione couldn't tell what was going on in his head. She swallowed. "I thought that-"

"Well you thought wrong." he interrupted. "If you thought just because we were thrown into this together, Granger, meant some big reconciliation between the lion and snake then I honestly think that you need to get yourself checked out. Our types don't mix together. _At all._ "

Anger flared up inside her. He'd brought up her heritage in a matter of seconds. It actually surprised. How stupid of her! She thought he had changed! She thought he was different but she should have know that deep down he was the same, the same prejudices about her blood would always be put against her.

"You _prick_!" Hermione snapped back at him. "How does _my blood_ change anything?! Oh, don't go near the mudblood! She might infect me with her non-magical heritage." she mocked him hurtfully. "You asshole, Draco Malfoy. I still can't believe that after all of this you _still_ cared about that! You know, I really was starting to think you'd change since the war-"

"Oh don't go being so saint and pure-like!" Draco barked. "Stop acting the victim, Granger. I wasn't fucking talking about you being muggle-born. But thanks for confirming my suspicion of your hatred towards me, you Gryffindor's will do _anything_ to prove I'm the same as I used to be."

"Well it bloody sounded like my blood to me!"

"That's because you're a fucking Gryffindor. You act like the Slytherins are the bad guys when, in reality, you hold the same grudges, you are still bias against us because we wear green and silver. Get off your bloody high-horse." Hermione opened her mouth to retort but before either could get another word in a flying, black envelope swooped in from the open window and unfolded itself on the desk.

Hermione sent him another glare then brusquely walked to the desk. She read over it in a second and turned to the Head Boy.

"It's Professor McGonagall." Hermione regained a calm composure. "She says we're to meet her tonight at 7:30 in the Entrance Hall."

"That's it?" he asked.

Hermione shrugged. "I suppose so," she said. "It doesn't say anything else." Hermione hadn't brought up her secret meeting that was supposed to be tonight with TTJ, whoever that was. She half hoped the meetings didn't clash with one another, but she also half hoped they did so she had a reason _not_ to go find this person. Hermione let out a breath.

The two stood there for a few seconds awkwardly. The sudden outburst had quickly disintegrated but now both were too proud to apologise.

Hermione spoke first. "I'll see you later." she muttered, brushing past him and left the dormitory with her head bowed.

* * *

Draco felt worse after their fight than he did in the morning. He kept giving his friends sour looks and short responses when they tried to talk to him. Truthfully, he felt guilty for shouting at Hermione. She hadn't done anything wrong, not in the _slightest,_ but she was in the firing range and managed to get shot. His stubbornness had got the better of him and now he had no chance to say sorry. Knowing Granger she'd probably still be fuming by seven thirty but too occupied with McGonagall to worry over such a 'petty feud'.

After Alchemy (he had to put up with Weasley's dirty looks all lesson) Draco dawdled down to the Slytherin Common Room. The room was almost deserted. Immediately he spotted Blaise fast asleep on one of the couches, far in the back some fourth year students were talking quietly amongst themselves. Draco approached Blaise and swiftly hit him on the head with his exercise book. Blaise awoke with a jolt then glared darkly.

"Faggot." He grumbled, rubbing his forehead.

Draco shrugged and flopped onto the opposite couch. He was used to the soft lounge in the head dorm, this one was too bumpy.

"What are you doing here?" Queried Blaise and he sat upright.

Between Draco and Blaise there had never been any secrets. He was a best friend to Draco, or the closest to it. Draco usually confined in Blaise when he was younger, even during his sixth year about his mission from the Dark Lord. But lately they'd drifted. Draco changed dramatically and found his opinions and thoughts were different than Blaise's. He missed his friends but Draco's tolerance for them narrowed every day. Consequently, Draco felt he should reveal some of his thoughts to Blaise, though he was afraid how his friend might react if he was completely truthful.

"About this morning." Draco admitted.

"Oho? We finally up for sharing?" Blaise humoured. Draco only rolled his eyes. "Well, go on then," Blaise prompted. "Spit it out."

"I got a letter from my mother about a meeting set up with Aria Croft - know of her?"

Blaise scrunched one side of his face. "Name sounds vaguely familiar. Keep going."

"Need I say more?" Draco scoffed. "Mother obviously wants to set me up with her. Rich and respectable and all that shit. Never liked the family though, her cousin broke my broomstick when we were kids! Snapped it right in half."

It was Blaise's turn to roll his eyes this time. "What's wrong with her? The chances of her being ugly or lacking is close to nothing. Your mother knows how important looks are to you."

Incredibly, Draco blushed almost guiltily. He coughed loudly to excuse his red cheeks and prayed Blaise hadn't noticed. "Point is, if I'm old enough to be settling down, shouldn't I be old enough to choose my own wife?"

Blaise shrugged. "I understand what you're saying mate but we both know that's not really how things work in our kinds of family."

Draco groaned. "Don't say that. You're supposed to be sticking up for me with this."

"Sorry, bro. It's time to grow up, I guess."

* * *

Night came all too quickly. For the past hour Draco had been holed up in the back of the library, going over what he could say to Hermione on their walk to McGonagall's office. However, his speech was botched entirely once he realised he was already running ten minutes late. Draco sword and sped off out of the library ("No running in the library!" Screeched Ms Pince.) Huffing and clutching his side, Draco arrived in the Entrance Hall and walked fast to the two figures.

He still hadn't caught his breath so was gasping as he apologised to the Headmistress about being late. With a scowl, Professor McGonagall ushered them forward. Draco watched Hermione through the darkness but she avoided his eye. The three walked in silence out of the grounds and down to the Quidditch Pitch. They all had their wands lit with _lumos._ It took ages until McGonagall slowed her pace, Draco followed, in line with Hermione, aware of the Head Girl's sudden tenseness. From the corner of his eye Draco saw she was biting her plump lips and her knuckles were white against her wand. He wondered what was wrong.

"Ah, here we are." Professor McGonagall announced.

Draco couldn't tell what exactly they were doing or where they were supposed to be. It was dark now and, as far as he was concerned, surrounding them was nothing but grass and the pitch in the distance.

Draco raised his curiosity. "Uh, Professor? What are we doing out here?"

"In a moment, Malfoy." She said.

The witch moved a few meters in front then stopped. A blue light shone out of nowhere and suddenly, three wizards arrived by portkey. He heard two deep voices greet the Headmistress and then a feminine voice speak up. Draco squinted but still couldn't quite see.

"Lumos maxima!" he said and the orb of light flew above them, illuminating the area.

The woman in front of him smiled radiantly, she had long, blonde hair and he thought he could sense some Veela within her. Professor McGonagall introduced her as Gabrielle Delacour. Next, a lean indigenous man in shaggy robes and messy hair nodded at Draco. "Atsu Matata." He shook Draco's hand firmly.

"Yes, Atsu is the Headmaster of the Uagadou School of Magic in Africa." Professor McGonagall clarified. "And this..."

Draco turned to see a burly, tall brown-haired guy he felt he'd seen before. Draco realised just a second before McGonagall introduced him but Hermione was too quick and he heard her quiet voice mutter, "Viktor!"

* * *

Hermione's little squeak caught the attention of McGonagall and a disapproving look went her way. Hermione blushed furiously but she couldn't stop beaming. For an extra five minutes Professor McGonagall informed the Head Boy and Girl that Gabrielle, Atsu and Viktor would be the judges for the Tetrad Championship. There had been a change in plan, the judges would be staying in Hogsmeade until the actual Championship began to avoid any eyes of students.

At eight o'clock Hermione finally got Viktor on her own. The other four head for the castle, Draco lingered for a second but then turned his back on Hermione and returned.

"It was me." Viktor said proudly. Straight away she noticed his English improved since their last talk. "'The Third Judge', I'm sorry if I confused you though. I just wanted to keep it a secret."

Hermione shook her head, still grinning brightly. "No, it's fine! I'm very happy it's you. Are you sure you're alright to be staying in Hogsmeade until then, though?"

"I think I'll be fine, I have stayed there previously. They looked after me well." Viktor looked down at Hermione in admiration, he brushed a tendril of her hair behind her ear then dropped his hand carefully. "You look tired."

Hermione's cheeks heated again. "Just been a little stressful, I will admit. But I think I'm happy. Which is good... but you look great!"

Viktor chuckled quietly. "Thank you, Hermione." He stumbled on her name only slightly. "Do you think we could spend some time together? While I'm here, that is. I have missed you."

"Certainly!" Hermione felt very flustered. "But I think it'd be better to, you know, see each other in daylight." she laughed nervously. "Not much to do in the dark."

"I do agree." He returned her smile. "Well, when you're available send me a letter, it'll get to me quickly. I have a lot of free time up until the Championship."

"I'll uh check my timetable when I get back." Hermione promised.

She couldn't believe this! Her day suddenly turned from crap to good! She'd been longing to see her friend (ex-boyfriend? Ex-love interest?) for years. It was such a surprise though, to think that Viktor would be a judge for the next competition.

"Would you like me to walk you back?" Viktor offered after a moment of quiet.

"Oh, no thank you, you should get to Hogsmeade. I can make it back to the castle fine."

"Well, alright then." He was still smiling. Viktor leaned down and swept a kiss on her soft cheek. She could still feel his lips when he pulled back. "Good night, Hermione."


	9. The Article

**A/N: Long story short, I didn't end up going on my expedition because my great nanna passed away and I decided to stay for the funeral. It was a very beautiful service and I tried not to cry but the waterworks eventually flowed. But from that I gained a few things and I'm happy I stayed home. Anyway, here's the next chapter guys, I hope you like it.**

* * *

Hermione sat, wedged beside Crookshanks on the lounge, twisting her quill in between her fingers and biting her lip. She was just finishing up a letter for Harry and Ron.

 _Thank you for getting in touch! I was actually getting a little worried, but I suppose you're busier than usual._

 _Things are going well at Hogwarts, Malfoy has settled down and it's pretty easy to get through to him for Head duties (most of the time). Ginny is going well, too. The Tetrad Championship is coming closer now. Just one day until the reveal of the champions. You both know my opinion on this but I'm stuck organising what the Professors haven't._

 _We met the three judges just over four weeks ago: Gabrielle Delacour, Atsu Matata (the Headmaster of Uagadou in Africa) and Viktor Krum. Since then we haven't met on any official business but I'm sure mine and Malfoy's involvement will come into it soon._

 _I hope you're both well._

 _All my love,_

 _Hermione._

Hermione wasn't entirely lying when she wrote they hadn't met on _official_ business. Because they hadn't. Her and Viktor, however, had met twice now on personal terms. Both were in the vicinity of Hogsmeade and both ended with a few snogs. Hermione felt nice to be back in the company of Viktor, he'd changed greatly from her fourth year. She liked to hear about what he'd been up to and how his Quidditch playing was going and what he planned to do in the near future. Hermione always steered clear of the topic of war though, she couldn't seem to bring up how she felt about it to him. She figured it was because he hadn't endured what she had during that time...

Hermione sealed the letter then placed it down onto the coffee table. She stared at the rose sitting in the glass vase. Viktor had given it to her when they first met up. It hadn't even wilted yet.

The portrait door opened and the Head Boy strolled in, his robe dangling half off him, hair tousled and school shirt untucked. Hermione arched an eyebrow. She didn't even to ask what happened because his one word summed it up.

"Peeves." Draco growled and sped for the bathroom.

Hermione giggled quietly to herself. She climbed up from the lounge, brushing her palm over Crookshanks's ear as she went, and followed him.

Draco had removed both his black robe and shirt but was concentrating his full attention on his hair, peering so close to the mirror that his face almost touched it. Without thinking, Hermione's eyes trailed over his chiselled torso, following each and every muscle, hovering over what girls called the 'v line'. Her eyes snapped back to his face. He was, thankfully, still fiddling with his hair.

Ever since their little outburst they'd been kinder to each other. It took a day or two for things to settle, but now they were getting on - well enough for working, at least.

"So... what exactly happened? Or are you going to tell me not to ask?" Hermione said.

"I'm not going into detail," Draco glanced at her from the corner of his eye and smirked. "It'd hurt my pride and ego too much to reveal it to more people. Though, it did include some fourth year."

She rolled her eyes with a sigh. "Fine, if you say so then."

Draco finished his hair a few seconds later. He turned to find his shirt - Hermione avoided staring at his body. "What were you doing up here anyway?" He asked. "You usually do your duty at this time."

"I got one of the Prefects to cover for me because I needed some time to catch up with letters."

"The parentals and Potter and Weasley then." Draco said, shrugging on his shirt. Hermione watched the way his muscles flexed as he moved his body around. He really was fit. She instantly heated again from thinking that.

"Yes, them." She followed the Head Boy back to the common area. Hermione grabbed her letters and Draco landed on the lounge, he put his feet up on the arm rest. Crookshanks bounded from the end and landed on Draco's chest. The cat immediately curled up on Draco. Hermione smiled.

"That's sweet." she remarked and took one of the other seats.

Silence didn't manage to fall between them because Draco spoke up again. He was fiddling with a Muggle Rubix Cube (which he had found almost falling out of one of Hermione's bags two days ago). "Ready for the reveal of the Champions?"

Hermione scoffed. "As if. I think the entire event is bollocks. I'm just glad we aren't allowed to enter."

Draco glanced over at her sceptically. "Uh, why?"

"Well I don't really want to have to do Head duties all by myself while you're getting fired at from some dangerous monsters or something!"

He rolled his eyes this time. "That's the _only_ reason, Granger?"

She nibbled her lip. Draco only used her last name if he was teasing her or was offended. "Well, of course I wouldn't want you to be hurt either, Draco."

"Sure." He said in a voice she wasn't sure was hurt or not. Draco continued to struggle with the Muggle toy and Hermione got to her feet again. She picked up her rucksack resting against the lounge. She needed to see a new face.

"I'm going to the Owlery. Do you need anything while I'm roaming the castle?" She told him once she got to the door.

Draco just shook his head. "Okay." Hermione murmured to herself.

* * *

 _Aria Croft was a beautiful redhead with an exuberant personality and insanely rich father, even richer than the Malfoy family._

 _The Croft family arrived promptly at one o'clock for luncheon._ _Draco had only spent five minutes getting ready but was clad in suitable black slacks and a dark green shirt tucked in. He was seated next to Aria at the glass table in the middle of the Malfoy's garden, shaded by the trees and canopy above. Their parents were participating in an enthusiastic conversation about the latest political bullshit and Draco was clenching the arm rest of his chair as Aria's - apparently naughty and disobedient - hand crawled along his inner thigh._

 _He wouldn't deny her beauty. If Draco wasn't being such a child over arranged relationships then he would have done her years ago. She knew what to say and when to say it and how to act and be a lady. All that self and Mummy taught behaviour from a young age. She was the epitome of a perfect daughter from a respectable and feared family._

 _After lunch however, despite the nagging in his head about not wanting to be saddled with her, his primal instincts took over and Draco offered to show Aria their great library upstairs._

 _It was done in a heartbeat. The moment the double doors closed behind them Draco sprung into action. Aria seemed to know what she was doing, too. She touched him in the right places and moaned so sweetly in his ear. He wouldn't believe for a_ second _that she was an innocent virgin. She probably acted like this with other men to get herself out of shit. But Draco didn't care._

 _It wasn't sensual and loving sex, it was rough and quick sex and the room was equipped for her screams of pleasure._

 _When they were done Aria plucked a kiss on his swollen lips as he zipped up his slacks. Aria straightened her dress and hair. Except for red cheeks, she looked the same as before. But Draco had known what they'd done and would never forget what she said next._

 _"Don't take it personally, but I doubt you'll be finding me around here any time soon. Or later, for that matter."_

 _He chuckled quietly as she left him on his own. "Duly noted." Draco muttered._

* * *

"Wake up."

Half a second later something hit Draco hard in the face. He sprung up, his palm flew to his face. Draco's vision cleared and the glare of Hermione stared down at him.

"What the fuck..." he grumbled. Draco checked his watch. It read 4:06. His next motion was to look out the windows. Pitch black. He must have fallen asleep after Hermione left to send her letters.

The Head Girl cleared her throat. Draco directed his attention back to her. "What was the hit for?"

"Oh, you know, just for you lying to me." She hissed. Hermione shoved a newspaper into his arms and she stormed away.

Draco unfolded the newspaper and instantly new this was going to be bad. It was one of the newspapers that circulated around the school, written by the students. It wasn't strictly forbidden because only the students knew how to get to the real gossip of Hogwarts. Draco never bothered with that gossipy bullshit but if Hermione had just threw it in his face he figured he'd better have a look.

On page 3 Draco almost threw the paper out without even reading it. A picture of him was moving next to the article.

 ** _The Façade is Falling?_**

 _There are many great families still thriving from generation to generation in the Wizarding world. One that comes to mind quite easily is the Malfoy family and, more in particular, Draco Malfoy, the current Head Boy here at Hogwarts._

 _The Slytherin has had a dramatic change in behaviour and opinion since returning to school and pretty much everyone is feeling a little sceptical toward Draco. Not long ago he confided in his friend, Blaise Zabini, about not agreeing with his parents way of doing things in terms of marriage._

 _The word is that on September 30 Draco left school to meet a potential wife (?) at his manor and her family for luncheon. The woman was said to be Aria from the Croft family. Of course, poor Draco could have just been concerned about the appearance of his soon-to-be-lady._

 _Quote, Zabini: "_ What's wrong with her? The chances of her being ugly or lacking is close to nothing. Your mother knows how important looks are to you."

 _Keep in touch to find out more about the Head Boy in Dilemma._

* * *

7:13 am. After reading the article Draco had tossed the paper into the fireplace and ran up to Hermione's door which was practically barred from the inside. He couldn't get inside with any spell so had resorted to singing/screaming to Granger, begging for her to come out. He thought his singing was pretty shit on a good day, so was almost certain Hermione would give in within the first ten minutes. But now, three hours later, Draco leaned against her bedroom door, legs spread out and a half bottle of Firewhiskey in his grasp. He was almost falling asleep now.

Suddenly, the door opened and Draco fell onto his back. The Firewhiskey spilled over his shirt but Hermione simply stepped over Draco, acting as if he wasn't even there.

Draco stumbled up and, once he found his footing, he chased after the Head Girl.

"Hermione! Wait just a fucking second!" he slurred.

Somehow, Draco managed to get to the portrait door before she did and blocked it off with his arms and legs. "Ha! Now you can't get passed so you have to listen to me."

Hermione just looked at him with a blank expression. "Malfoy, I don't want to have to hex you out of the way so just move!"

"Not until you've heard what I have to say." Draco told her stubbornly.

"I think I've heard enough-"

"-Since when have you _ever_ listened to that fucked up shit circulating the school?!" He cut in front. "I'm pretty sure you've never even picked up one of those papers so why has that changed suddenly because there's a piece about me?"

"Because it fucking fits!" She yelled hysterically. "You told me you were leaving to go out shopping with your mother that day! You lied to my face, Malfoy. That's why it matters."

Silence fell. Draco blinked. "That's all it's about?" he asked, a little confused. "Just because I lied? Not because I was getting set up with someone?"

Hermione hesitated for a second. "Well, that as well. But mostly because you lied!"

He folded his arms. "I didn't want this to happen, Hermione. If you don't believe me then think about that day. Or did you not see my reaction when my mother sent me that letter? Storming out of the Great Hall ring a bell?"

The Head Girl scoffed. "Yeah, right. I'm sure you absolutely _dreaded_ spending time with a boobful, rich, redhead. Well, congratulations, Malfoy. There's my blessing for you and Croft."

"Oh, for fuck sake, Granger." He waved his hands frustratedly. "You have to be such a fucking drama queen. All you Gryffindors are the same. Jump to conclusions before you've heard the whole story." Draco kept going before she could get a word in. "Okay, so we banged, but we aren't getting together! And I wasn't planning on it anyway. I would prefer to choose my _own_ wife. You know, someone I actually love?"

"Like you're fucking capable of love." She snapped angrily. "And it doesn't change anything at all."

Draco ran his fingers through his blonde hair, almost groaning. "Doesn't change anything, huh?! Well, how's this change for you?" In a step he grabbed her neck and pulled her in. Their lips collided in a kiss that lasted for a second before Hermione yanked away. She slapped him hard across the face. Draco staggered and Hermione used the time to step out of the portrait door and rush downstairs, tears leaking from her eyes.


	10. Rogue Illis

**A/N: ….okay…. It's been a very long time. Please don't be mad. For so long I decided to discontinue this story because of the fact that I didn't like what happened in the previous chapter. I just couldn't find a way to come back to the story because I just didn't like what I wrote. I know I could have just deleted the chapter but that just didn't seem like the right thing to do.**

 **So anyway, I came back to this today and read through all the chapters and started to get back into it again. I really liked the whole story altogether (with the exception of how things ended) and when I read through all the reviews I felt horrible for writing this all for you and never even finished it. I hope that, if you were one of the wonderful people who read this story and reviewed it for me, you're seeing this next chapter being published and I want to make a promise to finish this story. I'll try to do quick updates with shorter word counts.**

 **Wish me luck**

 **I hope you stick around**

 **Bxnes**

* * *

Hermione had no direction as to where she was going. All she felt was embarrassment, guilt, rage and disappointment. She ignored the concerned and weird looks people gave her. For this particular moment she wished she was nobody. She didn't want attention, she just wanted to be alone to throw stuff. Just as that thought popped in her head the strange black door of the Room of Requirement appeared at the end of the corridor. Hermione chewed her lip, considering this option.

All this time she assumed the Room had been destroyed by the Fiendfyre. When she reached the door she pushed it open at the handle. Apparently it hadn't been.

Inside the large, dark room were countless shelves of vases, books, picture frames, mirrors – anything satisfyingly breakable. Immediately Hermione picked up a white vase and, without examining it, she flung it in a random direction. A breath escaped her when she heard a satiating sound of it shattering. Hermione reached for another, now aiming it at a picture of Draco that appeared on the wall. The vase smashed in the middle of Draco's face. Dark blood poured from where it smashed on his face on the painting.

She let out a gasp then a sob. How could she have let this happen to herself? Setting herself up for a heartbreak so easily! Hermione _knew_ Draco was a problem. Why did she let herself become vulnerable to him? Why did she have to let herself care about the dumb ferret? Hermione had the choice of any person in the whole world and she had to choose the most horrible one out of them all.

Hermione sunk down into a seat, crying into her arms. Her head was starting to hurt. She knotted her fingers through her hair and pulled tightly. Caring about Malfoy… she couldn't believe herself. And when he kissed her. Gods, she was so happy she slapped him in the face. Stupid ass. How dare he assume everything would be alright with a kiss?

When a tissue box appeared on the side table beside her, Hermione grabbed a tissue and blew her nose gently. Despite pain and anger still bubbling inside her she knew she couldn't just sit there. She wiped the tears away tiredly and folded her arms while trying to decide what to do next. There'd be no way she'd go back to the Head Dorm to talk to Malfoy, and if she went to the Gryffindor Common Room, Ginny would know something was wrong immediately. Writing to Ron or Harry would both take forever to receive a response and they would go completely nuts over Malfoy doing that to her.

With a soft sigh Hermione pulled herself off the seat and shrugged her shoulders. She hadn't seen Hagrid in a long time, perhaps he could make her feel slightly better.

* * *

Tired, hungover and emotionally exhausted, Draco trudged down to the Great Hall for breakfast not long after the fiasco that commenced in the Head Dorm. Once Draco's eyes found Blaise in the crowd of Slytherins he approached him determinedly. Blaise turned his head when he saw Draco coming toward him.

"Hey, what's going on? Hey- that's mine!" Blaise grumbled when Draco snagged his slice of toast.

Draco slapped the newspaper down onto the table. "Who writes this?" He asked firmly.

"Depends. Do I get my toast back if I tell you?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Just answer the question Blaise, I seriously have no time for shit."

"Fucking hell, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. What's your problem?" Blaise narrowed his eyebrows. "Is it Granger?"

"A) Didn't sleep B) I don't have to answer that question if I don't want to and C) just tell me who writes the god damned paper."

"As long as you don't get this shitty again." Blaise mumbled and pulled the paper toward himself. He examined it for a moment then glanced back up, his eyes scanned the students in the Hall. "See that pretty blonde Slytherin talking to the Ravenclaw?"

Draco squinted and followed Blaise's gaze. He spotted a girl who was, in fact, blonde, pretty and had a very fierce look about her. "Yeah?"

"That's Rogue Illis. The paper is hers, she has ears everywhere, it's why the paper is so popular – pretty much everything in it is true. And as much as people don't like the truth, well… it gets more attention, doesn't it?"

Draco bit his lip then pursued the girl. He marched to her grumpily.

"Rogue Illis." Draco stated when she was in earshot.

Rogue turned at the sound of her name. She arched an eyebrow at him then showed a coy smile. "Mr Draco Malfoy. How can I help you?"

"No, don't you 'Mr Draco Malfoy' me." He growled. "You know why I'm here."

"Oh, do I?" Rogue asked innocently. "Perhaps we'd better discuss why you're here in a different area."

"Fine." He said irritably, storming out of the Hall that second without waiting for her. Draco took the route to an old supply cupboard he knew was around the corner and impatiently swung open the door and entered.

A few seconds later Rogue appeared. She pressed the door behind her, strolled across the small area and propped herself up onto a counter. Draco folded his arms. "I'd like to say to take off what you wrote but what's the point? Anyone and everyone who read it now knows." He complained.

"Quite true." Rogue said proudly, smirking.

"Then I'll move onto the next issue." He glared at her. "How did you know?" Draco asked, enunciating each word carefully.

"My little birds tell me everything. And when someone brought up the hot topic of Draco Malfoy, how could I resist?"

"And where's your proof that any of what was said was even true?" He challenged her.

Rogue raised her eyebrow. "The Croft's are my cousins. Didn't take much to find out the truth, of course all I had to do was send an owl. Very simple indeed." Rogue smirked again at Draco's fuming expression. "I _always_ check from primary sources."

Draco gritted his teeth. "So many people have died, fighting against Voldemort… and you… you go about acting so petty again when there's bigger things in the world than bullshit in newspapers?" he spat.

She snorted. "As Harry Potter says: the world needs the truth."

"You're influencing impressionable kids." He contended. "If you don't fix this, I swear to god."

"You'll what?" Rogue folded her arms. "The Head Boy will hex me? You'll hit me? If I wanted that I'd go back to my father. Just face it Malfoy, the word is out there already. How do you _want_ me to fix it?"

"I don't care. Just take my name out of the paper and never write about me again. Say it was a fake source. I have lots of money."

"Why would I risk my writing liability for money? I have a fortune of my own. But how honourable of you. Bribing newspaper owners." She sneered. "Why do you care so much? I thought there was once a time in your life that you _enjoyed_ being talked about?"

Anger exploded from his chest and Draco swiped his wand from his pocket, "Expelliarmus!" he bellowed.

"Protego!" she roared at the same time, blocking the charm. Rogue spat on the ground. "Fuck you, Malfoy. No wonder nobody _truly_ wants you. You're just a rat. If you think you can fix any of this then you're so very wrong." She stormed passed him and shoved the door open.

"You'll regret this, Illis!" Draco promised.


End file.
